Imprinted
by IntoTwilight
Summary: My gas light has been on for the last 14 miles. My fault, I know, but by the looks of it, no matter who is at blame for this situation, I am going to be stranded in the middle of La Push.
1. Prologue

**Disclaimer: Nothing belongs to me. None. Zilch. All to the lovely Stephenie Meyer.**

**Imprinted**

**Prologue **

My gas light has been on for the last 14 ½ miles. I know, you are most likely asking why I didn't stop earlier, but I could NOT bring myself to spend over four dollars for gasoline. My fault, but by the looks of it, no matter who is at blame for this situation, I am going to be stranded in the middle of La Push.

I'm sorry; I forgot to introduce myself. Before you read my long explanation about how I got stranded on the side of a deserted highway, you might want to know my name. Well, I am Francis, yes, I am a girl, Collings. Most people, however, call me Fran. Nice to meet you. So that you can put a picture with the face, I am about 5 foot 6 and ¼ inches. Don't forget the ¼, it's important. Curly, 4 hours with help to straighten curly, brown hair and blue eyes. I have abnormally pale skin for living somewhat close to a beach, but it's Forks. A.k.a. no-sun-ever-land. I do run though and am actually currently training for my first marathon. Exciting huh? Well, I bet you wouldn't understand, but with an iPod, running really isn't so bad.

That actually explains why I am out here in La Push. I love running on the beach, in the morning. Did I mention it was morning? Yeah, about 6:34 if you'd like to know. I want to get at least 10 miles in before the crowd hits, but at the moment, it looks like I will come shy of my goal.

I don't even get a chance to pull over. The dang jeep (purple and the love of my life) died right in the middle of the two lane highway. With no one present, due to the early hour on a Saturday, it looks to me about the time to pull out my cell phone, but wouldn't you know there's no service. I can see the mountains near the beach, however, but they are just short of distant and according to my GPS, the beach that I have been heading for is just under 28 miles away.

Sigh. This is just… great.

--

**So… what do you think?! I will most likely get super excited and write the first chapter tonight, but I don't want to post it until I get some suggestions about my writing style and introduction so that I can get the first chapter all perfect for you people ;)… Please review! This is my first story, and I want it to be the best it can be… If you give suggestions, not only will you possibly see your suggestions in my writing, but you might get to help with the plot, too! Doesn't that sound exciting?... Ok. If you review I'll give you a fresh cookie I will make tomorrow. Deal? Ok, I'm just kidding with the cookie part. Enjoy!**


	2. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: Pas de moi. Everything is de Stephenie Meyer.**

**Imprinted**

**Chapter 1**

_Sigh. This is just… great._

I have decided on my next plan of action. Sit and look pitiful until someone sees me and is so kind as to give me a lift to either my original destination or a place where my cell can get a signal. Either sounds good to me, but I'm not so sure how cool I am with the whole waiting for what could be forever part.

I decide that I might as well make myself comfortable. I might catch some other insane person out in the wee hours of the morning on a Saturday. Not likely, but one can hope. I take my place in the driver's seat of the car and put in my iPod headphones. I should have come out earlier so that I could watch the sun rise, I thought sarcastically.

After the third song ended, in the break between the two, I heard a car coming. Thank the Lord. I pulled out the headphones, without stopping the music, and turned to see if someone was really coming or if it was just my imagination running crazy. Sure enough, there was what appeared to be an old Volkswagen car of some kind. I'm not much of a car person, but I have a soft spot for old Volkswagens, you know? Who doesn't?

I got out of the car and walked around back so that the driver could clearly see that I was stuck in the middle of nowhere. I even waved my hands above my head. As the car approached, I could almost make out the driver's face and had just reached the conclusion that the driver was indeed a male when the car stopped suddenly. That was unexpected. I thought maybe he was having car problems, too.

He opened his door, he was still about 20 yards away from me, and stood up outside of the car. Then, he just… stared. It almost made me feel a little self-conscious, you know? And I am NOT the shy type. He was really tall, too, with medium long dark hair. He looked to be native to La Push. I'm not expert on "natives" or anything, but they always have this look to them. About 56 seconds had passed, not that I was counting, when I decided to say something.

"The name's Fran!" I shouted across the 20 yard chasm between us. He didn't respond. I don't even think he blinked. "I was having a little, well a lot, of car trouble and…"

I didn't even get to finish my sentence before he was running off toward the woods a little off the highway.

"Hey! Wait up! Couldn't you give me a lift of… Does your phone have service?!"

He kept running. I'll talk that as a no, but wow. He is fast. I wonder if he does track, or cross-country, like me. Then I got this crazy idea. He just ran off without even turning off his car, so something is most likely bothering him. Maybe I should go after him. Keep in mind that this whole train of thought took place in about 2 seconds, because before I knew it, I was running into the woods after him.

"Wait up! You should probably turn off your car!"

--

**Short, I know, but that just seemed like an amazing place to cut it off. I will continue on with the next chapter and might post it tonight, but I might not. Depends if I feel the inspiration :D… anywho, I hope you know to what werewolf I am referring. If not, go reread Twilight. I hope y'all are ok with that though. Well, I have an idea. I'm not sure if I still want the Cullens around Forks. You know how they move, and since they changed Bella (if she isn't changed in Breaking Dawn I will scream!) they aren't getting any older, and neither are the werewolves really. I'm gonna make a poll about whether the Cullens should be in the story or not, and PLEASE VOTE! If not, then I get to decide myself and you cannot argue about the outcome of my decision. muahahaha**


	3. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: Meyer owns all.**

**Imprinted**

**Chapter 2**

"_Wait up! You should probably turn off your car!"_

I just reached the edge of the trees as I saw him already almost into the shadows.

"Why?" he half cried half yelled. I think his voice even cracked. Why what? Why did your car half to run out of gasoline? I don't know, because I'm a frugal idiot who doesn't want to pay for gasoline. Oh, maybe he knows he has to help me, but he is really, really shy and doesn't want to help. But that doesn't explain the running into the woods in a fit a terror. Do I really look that bad? Sure, I didn't brush my hair this morning, but it is back in a pony tail anyway, completing the whole messy hair thing I was subconsciously going for. Yes, all the while these joyful thoughts run through my head, I continue to run into the woods. I'm surprised I haven't tripped yet on all of the roots and plants (**No, she is not clumsy like Bella, but just imagine running through the woods without a trail…**).

I just lost sight of him as I heard what sounded like 10 people ripping their shirts off at once. And I mean, literally ripping. Did he get caught on a branch or something? I slowed a little but continued to run in the direction of the ripping sound. Sure enough, I caught sight of a ripped shirt… and jeans… and, are those exploded tennis shoes? This… is weird.

Because I really nothing better to do, I began gathering the pieces of clothing. I was sure that this was his shirt, for I had gotten a good look at it from the 56 second staring contest we had earlier, but these jeans and tennis shoes couldn't possibly be his as well. If so, then he is probably running around the forest in his boxers or… That settles it, just his shirt, not his jeans/tennis shoes. I decided, with all the ripped clothing in my arms, that I would at least make it back to the cars. I didn't want his car to die, too. If worse comes to worst, then I definitely could use it to get back to the house, and I could leave a note on my car with my cell number telling him what I did with his car and, if it isn't too much trouble, if he could call me and somehow get my precious jeep back to me. It's a long-shot, but it seems like the best option I have at the time.

It was then I realized I had no idea which direction to go. I know they say that the best thing to do when lost is to pop a squat and wait for help, but I don't think I'm the only one for whom that philosophy goes against all natural survival instincts. I decided to make off in the direction of the cool looking tree with a butterfly on it.

--

Nothing. I've been walking for, on my best guess, 2 hours, and I have found nothing. I'm so idiotic that I didn't even bring my cell phone when I went romping into the woods. Maybe I'm close to civilization without even knowing it, and there is service! Smart move, Fran.

My legs are really starting the feel the pain of the walking. I can run for hours, but walking? Different story, and it's the same thing with standing, too. That's why I could never work at a store behind the counter. Stand all day with that stupid smile plastered on your face, eh. Not for me. Anywho, the pop-a-squat philosophy really isn't sounding too badly and the moment, so I decide to make a move against my survival instincts and sit on the ground against a fallen tree trunk. You would be surprised at how comfortable that spot really was, and I was asleep within minutes. After waking up that early in the morning and with all the trauma I had been through, I think I deserved a nap. My last conscious thought before I drifted off was where the heck that guy was without his now ruined shirt.

--

I don't know how long I had been asleep, but I awoke in the front seat of my jeep at a gas station. This is… weird, but amazingly awesome. I started to wonder if it was all a big dream and if I really had stopped at the over-priced gas station when I saw the Volkswagen. The same Volkswagen. The very same Volkswagen. Holy crap… I hope he found a shirt.

I looked down and saw the keys sitting on the dashboard on top of a post-it note that simply read "Sorry" in black Sharpie. I grabbed the keys and put them in the ignition and turned the car, to what I hoped would be, on. Much to my relief, it roared to life, and the little gas arrow swiftly moved to the "F." I was beyond excited one second, but then I realized that I had completely missed my running time; I mean, I could still run if I really wanted to, but the heat and the crowds, not that La Push was a crowded place, I just couldn't take it.

I then glanced around and my eyes rested on the Volkswagen again. This time, I saw the same guy in the driver's seat, staring at me again. So he wanted to have a staring contest, huh? Ok then. I stared back with the most concentrated look on my face that I was sure I saw him smile a little. I decided to go thank him for, at least, I assumed it was him, helping me with my car problems and realized that I needed to pay him for the gas, money I didn't have on me.

I opened the car door and sauntered over to his car, parked in those extra spaces in front of the little store. He had an expression that I thought looked like a mix between surprise, relief, excitement, and horror. Those are a lot of emotions to have on one face, but I think the look worked for him. He wasn't that bad looking really, and he had a sweatshirt on. He can now be seen in public without people gawking/glaring at him. I felt a little relief for him.

Walking up to the car window, I rapped on it lightly with my knuckles. His response was to slowly roll down the window. "Fran," I said as I extended my hand through the now open window.

"Jacob," he said slowly as he took my extended hand. He looked like he wasn't breathing, and I then noticed that his hand was abnormally warm. Whatever. It's hot outside, and he is wearing a hoodie, of course he is a little hot.

"I owe you for gas."

"No really it's fine," he said. I realized that he still had my hand and was gripping it with increasing tightness. I pulled back gently on my hand, and he suddenly released it, seeming a little embarrassed.

"You spent at least like 65 dollars on me just now. As much as my piggy bank would love it, I can't let you get away with that."

"No really. I wanted to buy you gasoline," he said kind of quickly.

He wanted to buy gasoline, for someone else. Someone else he had never met before now. Someone from whom he had recently run away. "Can I have your address?" I asked.

"Um… What?"

"I have to get the money to you somehow, but I don't have it on me right now."

"Seriously, it is no big deal. Besides, you… I… I was really rude to you earlier, and this is one way to make it up to you."

65 dollars for running away from me into the woods when I was stranded in the middle of a deserted highway. I could go for that, but if I did let that slide, my conscience would kill me from the inside out. "Ok, I have a deal for you Jake; can I call you Jake?" he hesitated before nodding. "Ok. Deal is, you pay for the gasoline now, but I will make it up to you somehow. You get to name exactly what that 'somehow' will be…" I paused and gave him a look that said, 'You better not be thinking of what I just thought of that you might be thinking.'

He just stared at me… for the third time today. This time, he had mostly a mix of astonishment and amazement on his face with just a pinch of fear. Then he began to talk. "Do you like motorcycles?"

--

**How was that for longness? At least, compared to the other ones so far. I will probably get the hang of this "a lot of things happening in one chapter" thing, I hope. Grimace Anywho, what did you think? I figured that because one, since Fran, as previously mentioned, isn't very shy, and two, since the two main characters not knowing each other can get a little boring, I would go ahead and get them kinda introduced. I'm planning on the next chapter either being at Jake's house OR she goes home and there is a kind of in between chapter thing. What do you think? Review and let me know.**


	4. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: Jail me for life if this is my own, which it's not. Stephenie Meyer, it be yours.**

**Imprinted**

**Chapter 3**

"_Do you like motorcycles?"_

"Why do you ask?" Now I was curious.

"I think I have an idea about that payment you owe me, if you'll answer my question of course."

"Well, if you must know, I've never ridden one, I'm dying to do so, but I am forbidden to try."

"Hmm… well, I have two old bikes, really old, in my garage. I haven't used them in about twenty years, but I could probably get them to run." He then took in my look of sudden and complete astonishment and developed a 'I'm gonna kill myself for saying that' look of his own as he turned away from me and looked straight out the front windshield.

"Twenty years?! How old are you anyway?" Did I mention he looked like he was only 23? Well, he does, and I don't see any three year olds riding motorcycles.

He waited a second… well, maybe a minute, before he responded, and even then it came out stuttered. "I can't… It's a long story, ok?"

He was shaking by this point. "Are you ok?" I asked, genuinely concerned at this point, but I can't pass up a time like this without a little of humor. "Do I need to chase you into the woods again?" That opened up my memory to a few hours ago early this morning. Why did he run off on my like that and where did he disappear to, only to reappear and help me out of my situation?

I came out of my train of though and looked back at him. He looked like he was about to burst as he gripped the steering wheel so hard his knuckles where white, and take into account that his skin is already extremely tan. It would take some hard gripping to make them that white.

"I have to get out of here. Now." He then proceeded to open the door right through me, as I was still leaning in the window on the driver's side, and walk, still shaking, around the to the back of the gas station. He needs therapy.

"Wait. I don't even know where we are. How am I supposed to get back home?!" By this point he had already brushed past me and was almost around the corner.

"Wait here," he grunted as he turned the final corner, giving one last hard glare. Maybe he's bipolar, I thought jokingly. I seriously cannot get through a situation without some joke. Call it comic relief, for myself, by myself.

"No, I don't want to wait," I stated as I started jogging after him. I was greeted by this picture. Jacob standing with his back against the wall, his head tilted upward, his hands in fists at his sides, and all of his muscles straining to keep back some force, but what force, I probably had the worst guess.

He looked over at me almost as if he was in pain. "Leave now," he said through his teeth.

"What if I don't?"

"I don't want you hurt."

"What, do you plan to shoot me or something?"

Then he let out what was either a grunt or a yell, but whatever you call it, it was loud and pained. Now, let's take a minute and think about how I should react to this situation. A complete stranger finds me stranded in the middle of nowhere, runs away, leaves me wandering the forest for 2 hours, comes back and fills up my tank with gas, babbles about motorcycles, and is then so angry for I don't know what reason that he is shaking and has retreated to behind the gas station store with me stupid enough to follow him.

One side of me is just a little creeped out by this whole mess and wants me to just listen to what he said and leave. No matter that I don't know the way home, it just wants me to get up, up, and away.

The other side of me is the obstinate one that doesn't like getting ordered around and is curious about how this whole scenario will end.

There is a third side, however, that is genuinely concerned for this man whom I just recently met.

No matter how good the reasoning of the first side of me is, given the fact that two sides of me want to stick around, it looks like that is what I'm going to do.

I return back to earth from the retreat of my mind to see Jacob again. He looks even worse than before as he seems to be in his own earthquake. He looks up at me with what looks like concern in his eyes. He raises a hand as if to ward me away from him when I black out.

--

I awoke, for the second time that day, in a bedroom, but not my bedroom. It definitely belonged to someone else, but in the state of my delirium, I couldn't make out distinct features of this new, mysterious room. I then fell back into the darkness.

--

I woke up again in a little better condition. I now noticed that it was evening, but before I could take in anymore I noticed someone else in the room.

"Ah, you're awake, I see," said the women in the corner of the room folding laundry. She had black hair and appeared to age around 45. She also had about 3 distinct claw marks across her face. I just stared at her blankly.

"My name is Emily." I nodded in response and rested my head back on the pillow.

"Ok Francis, this is important. You got a little scratch on your side, but the doctor has already stitched it up and left some pain medication. How is it feeling?"

Once she mentioned it, I did notice a little pain in my side coming through the numbness. "What happened?"

This was the first time she looked uncertain, and she hesitated a second. She then said, "Jacob, he… I'll let him tell you."

"Why is it so important that he tells me? I don't even know him! I don't even know you! Where am I? and what happened to me?" I was practically yelling by the time I finished my strand of questions, 

and I noticed my eyes starting to water a little. I took a deep breath to calm myself. I would NOT cry in front of this strange, scarred women stranger person.

"Sweetie, you are at Sam's and my house. You would be at your own home this moment if you weren't unconscious and could tell us where you live. Would you like to call your parents and let them know that you are ok?"

"How can I tell them that I am ok when I don't even know what is wrong with me myself?!" I was really mad now. I sat up and swerved around to get out of the bed. I felt a surge of pain up my side, and I fell to the floor. That is going to hurt in the morning.

"Oh goodness, you're going to get hurt worse if you keep this up! Sam," she yelled across the house, "Where is Jacob? He needs to take care of this."

"I don't know," a man's voice that I'm assuming belonged to Sam replied from some location in the small house. "I think he's clearing his head."

"Can he clear his head any faster? This girl is going to kill herself. Can you go get him?"

"Emily, I can't… you know why I can't do that now."

She sighed. Then, she turned to me and said, "Can you please keep yourself safe until Jacob sees you? He is already mad enough at himself for hurting you."

This is the second time someone slipped today. "_He_ did this to me?"

I then lifted my shirt a little to inspect the damage myself. There was a red line, held together with stitches, that started about three inches above my belly button and curved downward to the middle of the outside of my thigh. I gasped, and then came my never failing humor. Yes, battle scars.

--

**And that is chapter 3. I hope you liked it, and as always, Review, Review, Review. Now, I hate to be the bearer of bad news (bad news for my lovely readers anyway), but I'm going on vacation! It is summer after all. Anyway, I and my treasured laptop will not have any internet access until I return on Friday 13 (dun dun dunnnnn…). So, use your logic people, what does that mean about my updates? That's right, none until Friday 13 (dun dun dunnnnn…). I will hopefully write one or two more chapters while I'm away, and I will not fail to post them upon my return. I'll see you on Friday 13 (dun dun dunnnnnn…)!**


	5. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: I'm definitely running out of cool ideas for the disclaimer… So, this time, I'll be uncool and just go with 'Belongs to Meyer, not moi."**

**Imprinted**

**Chapter 4**

_Yes, battle scars._

This couldn't be good. Who was this Jacob character anyway? He behavior today is just shy of strange, but what could he have done to create this big of a gash? He doesn't look to be one of those gang people who always have a knife on them.

"I'll go get you some more pain medication," said Emily as she rushed out of the room without answering my question.

I heard Emily walk through the house and then stop and look around in a room. Then I heard Emily talking to whom I assumed was Sam again. I couldn't make out any of the conversation, but I their mumbles were silenced as the front door slowly opened, as if the person entering was trying to sneak in. One of the two, Emily or Sam, said, "Speak of the devil…"

It must be Jacob. I tried standing up carefully and hobbled to the doorway, which I had to grasp for support. The conversation never took up in the kitchen again. It sounded like they were having a staring contest like the two Jacob and I had earlier that day, but by this point, I didn't care how many staring contests he had or one; I have a score to settle with this stranger for most likely scarring me for life.

I take a breath and take a few more steps forward, gripping onto the next door frame in the hallway. I felt exhausted already. Being critically injured really takes it out of you. "JACOB," I said as loud as I could get my voice. I heard a pause and then quick footsteps coming in my direction.

And then, there he was. The murderer himself.

"What did you do?!" I asked him, well, more yelled at him.

He just stared at me wordlessly. He likes staring I take it.

"Well?"

"… you're injured, you shouldn't be walking." He took a few steps forward to me and picked me up, took me to the room, and laid me on the bed, all the while, I was trying to squirm out of his arms while yelling, "Put me down!" (**I'm really tempted to have her punch him like Bella did, but I don't want to copy it exactly :D**)

"You need rest."

"Are you going to answer me or not?!"

He hesitated. "Eventually, but I don't think you can handle the answer at this point."

"What do you mean I can't handle the answer? I'm fine! And I need to get home, now. I've been gone all day. My mom will be worried sick! What am I going to tell time her when I get home? 'Oh, it's ok mom, this guy came and helped me with car issues and then slashed me open.' I don't think so. I want an answer AND reasons."

I'm really starting to wonder if I've ever been this mad before now. I looked up and saw him standing over me with his head down in shame. I literally thought that he was going to cry any second. Then, he proceeded to mumble something.

"You're going to have to speak up." I hate it when people mumble.

He lifted his head a little and looked into my eyes. They seemed to be boring into my brain.

"I'm a werewolf."

Pause. I blinked at him for a second while he continued to stare into my eyes. "You're not being funny, you know. I want the truth, not a fairy tale."

I can't believe he even had the nerve to pull something like that.

"Come." He picked me up from the bed, but this time, I didn't struggle. It was like I wasn't controlling my body anymore. This guy gave me the most bizarre excuse, and instead of being disgusted like I should be, I'm in shock. It's like it is so unbelievable that I believe it.

--

He took me out of the little house, and from here I could see the beach. We must still be in La Push. And there, in the driveway, sitting loyally, is my jeep. He may have cut me in half, but at least he was concerned enough to take my jeep with me to wherever it is I am.

He carried me across the yard to the fringe of trees and set me down about 10 yards from the edge of the forest. He then gave me the 'wait' gesture and ran into the forest. What is it with these guys and their forests?

During the 3 minutes that he was away, I started noticing the pain in my side again. I was also hungry. Right now is the time that you could really dig into a bacon cheeseburger.

Just as I was finishing the eating of 3 imaginary bacon cheeseburgers, I heard rustling. I turned my attention back to the trees to see whatever it was Jacob had to show me. In the back of my head, I was noticing how cavalier I was being about this whole situation. I mean, this guy tore me to shreds, but not before some previously weird behavior. Why was I still here? My mom must be terrified. I wouldn't be surprised if she sent the police out on me.

The rustling got louder, and I began to make a shape out in the shadows. It was not helping that the sun was beginning to set. I looked liked a bear. That was when I started to freak out, and I did not fail to 

notice how it continued to advance toward me. "Jacob…" I don't know why I'm calling for help from the guy who previously almost killed me, but I am. Currently, he was the only one out here for all I knew.

A giant wolf emerged from the trees. 'A werewolf,' a little voice said in my head.

"Holy cow on a stick!" I tried to get up quickly, but in the same motion, I was trying to put as much distance as I could between myself and this… thing. The combination of the two plus my injury did not have a good turn out. I slipped and landed on my side, the bad side. The only thing I could do was curl up into a ball, the pain was so bad, and hope that whatever this creature was decided I would not make a decent snack.

Then, something really unexpected happened. I felt a wet nose brush my cheek, like that of a dog, but warm. I ceased to breath, for I knew to whom that nose belonged. I opened my eyes, and they became locked with a set of very familiar ones. "Jake?"

He responded with a lick. Gross, but cute. "You're a dog…" I trailed off.

His face took on an expression which I assumed was a grin.

My hand slowly inched up and rubbed the top of his head. It is an unconscious reaction whenever you meet a dog, except… this one just happened to be the size of a small horse, but it really makes no difference. I began to rub behind his ears, and he leaned into my hand. He was kind of cute now that he looked harmless.

'What are you talking about?! This guy nearly killed you!' my conscious screamed.

'But he is cute as a puppy…' my irrational self argued back.

'He is NOT a puppy. He's a werewolf, remember?'

I had forgotten about that possibility. I stopped petting him, and he looked at me with pitiful eyes and even whined a little, like when a dog is scarred of a thunderstorm. He looked so harmless right now.

'You're a goner,' my conscious said in defeat.

'Haha.'

Jake then put his head down to where my cut was and licked it a few times. It was a little weird, but I somehow knew he was saying that he was sorry.

After about an hour, he got up and went back into the woods. The human Jacob came out around 3 minutes later.

"So… what do you think?" he asked.

"I like you better as a dog."

--..

**I thought that chapter, or at least the second half, was kind of cute. Some real Jacob-Fran bonding time there. You know, as always… Review, Review, Review. I'm thinking that the next chapter will be the spilling of the secrets, but I don't think I will explain it all in detail because you all know what I'm talking about; let me know what you think. Sorry this was posted so late. In my defense, I wrote this on the first two nights of my vacation, so I didn't completely forget about the story, I just have no internet access… Maybe I'll have to go by a Starbucks or something… hmm… Anywho, I will most likely write another chapter during this vacation. This is fun :D**


	6. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: All hail Stephenie Meyer, to whom this whole story (except Fran) belongs.**

**Imprinted**

**Chapter 5**

"_I like you better as a dog."_

Here I was, standing at the front step of my own house. I was scared to go inside… _my own house_. Of course, if one has been absent from 6 a.m. to 10 p.m., she would have reason to be frightened. I took a breath, a step forward, and opened the door.

When you walk through the front door of my house, there is a small hallway with a coat rack and then stairs leading up to a storage room, two bedrooms and a bathroom. One is the guest bedroom, the other mine. Through the hallway, we are downstairs again, you come into a living/dining room. To the left, down another small hallway are other assorted rooms, and to the left and back is the kitchen.

My mother was not in the living room, so I carefully tiptoed through it and peaked into the kitchen. There she was, asleep by the phone. I assumed that everyone was outside searching for me already, and she was waiting for calls of confirmed sightings. _Sorry mom…_

I didn't want to wake her up, partly because I didn't want to face her wrath, but mostly because she looked so peaceful lying there. I took a yellow post-it note from the edge of the counter and scribbled a note:

_I'm home._

_Sorry, but I ran into a bit of a situation._

_I'll explain in the morning… Love you, Fran_

I stuck it on the phone in front of her and then tiptoed once more up to my room. I got on my pajamas, brushed my teeth, and got into bed. I lay there, staring at the ceiling while sleep eluded me. A howl echoed through the outdoors. A werewolf's howl.

"_I like you better as a dog," I responded._

"_Is that so?" he said as he laughed for the first time since he had laid eyes on me. It was a deep laugh. A genuine laugh; it made _me _feel happy just hearing it._

"_So… you are really and truly a…" I paused for a second, trying to contemplate the strangeness of it all._

"_Werewolf, yes," he said. We stood, well, he stood, I sat, in silence for a while._

"_How did you go about this?" I asked, feeling that I needed to know as I gestured to my side. He developed a pained look before he responded._

"_That gets us into a long story."_

"_I've got time."_

_He walked over and sat next to me. I could feel his warmness radiating; it made me feel relaxed._

"_Well, to begin, I'm about to redefine everything you _think_ you know about werewolves."_

--

The next morning, I slept really late. Considering all the trauma I had been through on Saturday, I think that I deserve a little rest. With hardly any sun in Forks, it wasn't a disturbance to my sleeping routine. I looked over at my alarm clock, it read 1:45 p.m., and saw a bright pink post-it reading, 'You are in trouble.'

A post-it war.

My mother and I had these about once a month when I slipped up and deserved some type of punishment. Once we didn't talk for almost a whole week.

Now, I'll bet you are really confused. Neither my mother nor I like facing each other when I have broken the rules. My mom hates punishment, but she knows that it is necessary. I hate being yelled at, but I know that it is coming. Our solution? Post-it wars.

We basically have our whole yelling and slamming door argument through notes left on doors, tables, alarm clocks, etc. Places that we know the other will find them. The receiver then responds on her own post-it and leaves it somewhere.

My mom usually threatens me with different punishments in her notes, while I explain myself through mine and give specific reasons why the punishment she visualizes does NOT fit the crime.

My explanation for this debacle would be a lengthy one. I sigh as I reach for a pen and grab my pile of colorful post-it notes from my desk. This explanation would probably take three whole pieces of paper.

I debate how to approach the topic and begin to write:

_I'm very sorry that I was absent all of yesterday without excuse or notification. Please try to understand my very difficult day yesterday._

_First, as I was on my way to La Push to get in my run, my car ran out of gas, and I was stranded on a deserted highway. Eventually a car drove up_

I stopped there. I could not just tell my mother about Jacob as he really was. I needed a different story. I took five minutes to develop one when I began where I left off:

_and Jacob, the guy who owned the car, helped me get my jeep to a gas station. After my tank was full, I thanked him and proceeded to leave when_

I ran out of room on the first post-it. I grabbed another and continued:

_I passed out because of the heat. I don't know exactly what happened, but I awoke in his aunt's house who lives nearby the gas station. They took care of me, but could not contact you because they did not know where I lived or what my number was._

_It was late afternoon when I came to my senses, and I spent the rest of the day re-hydrating myself, and they treated me to dinner. Then I came home._

Very untrue story, but would she have believed me if I told her about my very true encounter with a werewolf? No. Besides, this explanation fit on two post-its. Save the trees!

I tiptoed downstairs, stuck the note on the fridge, and tiptoed back upstairs. Once safely back inside my room, I decided my next plan of action. I needed to get out of the house, so I decided that, since I missed my run yesterday, I would try again today. I wouldn't drive out to the beach this time by any means, but I could just take a short 10 mile run starting from my house.

I put on a pair of light blue running shorts, a tee-shirt, and one of my old, gray track hoodies. I decided to go a little crazy with the rest. I put my hair in a bun on the top of my head and got the craziest pair of socks out of my drawer, rainbow striped socks that reached to mid-shin. I then got out my most treasured possession, my running shoes.

With my shoes and crazy socks on, I opened the window and climbed out onto the roof, there is a little ledge beneath my window over the deck. I walked to the edge and jumped down. I have perfected a jumping style now that doesn't hurt my ankles when I land. After a few stretches, I ran off down the road. Coincidentally, I happened to be running in the direction of La Push.

--

I had no intention of seeing Jacob again, but that day, something led me past his house, and I didn't even know where he lived. I must have travelled 15 miles from my house by then, but I felt like Forrest Gump. I just kept running for no particular reason.

I was running down a neighborhood street in La Push when I heard what sounded like someone building something from behind one of the houses. As they say, curiosity killed the cat. I stopped and listened for a bit. Then, I found myself walking toward the sound.

My feet led me to someone's back yard in a small garage. I walked around the front as quietly as possible, but even if I was stomping no one would have heard me. It sounded like he or she was using a blow torch on something. When I reached the front, I stopped abruptly.

"Jacob?" I promise I did not mean to say that.

He looked up from what he was doing and smiled.

--

**How cute it that?! I think I'm going to take the advice of one of my readers and get a beta reader. I have absolutely no CLUE how it works, but I will investigate the page sometime tomorrow. Yeah me! Take a step forward in technology! Oh yeah, and there is one more very important thing that I need to tell you that I couldn't really put in the story since it is Fran's point of view: She now knows everything about the werewolves except the vampires and the whole imprinting thing. I'm not sure when I will introduce the two parts of information, but I will. Actually, I have visualized the revealing of the imprint scene, but only a little part of it. And, as always, Review :D**


	7. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer's stuff with my twist.**

**Imprinted**

**Chapter 6**

_He looked up from what he was doing and smiled._

"Oh my gosh, sorry, I didn't know this was… I'll leave now." I turned around and started to walk away.

At the same moment I was making a fool of myself, Jacob was saying, "No… Fran… it's…" Something along that stuttering line, but as I turned away and started walking, I heard a grunt, and he got up to follow.

"Wait Fran, it's fine. I'm actually kind of glad you came. That motorcycle is starting to get on my nerves. How'd you find my house anyway?" He paused. "Are you stalking me?" he asked with fake bewilderment.

"Argh, no. I was just running, and you were being noisy and…" I started to run my hand through my hair when I felt the bun on the top of my head. I looked down and saw the socks. "Oh my gosh," I said under my breath.

"Heh, nice socks by the way," Jacob responded with the most annoying smile on his face. It made me want to smack it off. "Why don't you stay and hang out for a while? I've got coke."

"You know, I still haven't forgiven you for ripping my side off," I said jokingly. Jacob's face suddenly turned dark. If I really wanted that grin off his face, I couldn't have done better than that.

"Don't joke about that."

The look that followed the comment was one of complete seriousness. If he intended to shut me up, he succeeded.

"Can I have a coke?" I asked my toes quietly.

He dark, serious façade dissolved. Before it resumed its playful self again, it took on a look of compassion and regret, as if he would do anything to change what he had done.

"Sure," he said as he walked into the house. I just stood there helplessly. "You coming?" he asked; even his eyes had resumed their playfulness.

I, however, was slower to recover. I shuffled behind him onto the back porch and through the door. As I entered the house, I completely forgot about anything that had happened outside moments before. The house was trashed.

"You'll have to excuse the mess. I'm not very motivated when it comes to cleaning."

"I can see that," I responded. Honestly, I was surprised the place didn't have a stench. I just stood there, stupefied. I'm not the most cleanly person in the world, but this place was so disgusting, that I just stood there while Jake made himself busy in the kitchen.

"Are you going to clean it up?" I half yelled in the general direction of where he disappeared.

"Maybe when it gets too difficult to walk through," he replied. His response was followed by a booming laugh that seemed to echo through the house.

Then, suddenly, an idea came to me. Before I fully thought out the idea, however, I imagined the little light-bulb flicking on above my head for dramatic effect.

"We should have a cleaning party!" I yelled.

"What?!" Jacob yelled from the other room.

"We should have a--" I began, but Jacob cut me off.

"I know. I heard what you said," He said as he walked into the room with two cokes in hand. They were the glass bottle kind. I always like those. They make me feel cool and old-fashioned… in a good way. "I just can't really see why," he continued.

"You want to see why? Just look around. That's why." I began walking around the room and picking up crushed soda and beer cans as he stood, still stunned. As I started my rounds, I muttered to myself, "I don't even see why men like beer. Gross… Do you know how much money we could make for turning these in? … What we really need is a hammock…"

"Wait, wait, hold-up. A hammock? We're not redoing the place; this isn't even your house," he exclaimed, but it wasn't in a mad way. I think he was still shocked but with amusement in his eyes.

I paused and looked up at him with my best innocent/pitiful eyes. "But I could never live with myself knowing that a friend of mine has a house that is not suitable for a raccoon."

He stared at me with the 'You can't be serious' eyes until I cracked and started laughing.

"You have no idea how ridiculous you look with that face and that hair."

That made me laugh even harder. I dropped all my cans and was rolling on the disgusting floor by now. At some point I heard Jacob join in on the laughing fit, but I was oblivious to almost all other activity at that point.

After about three minutes of solid laughing, I started to get a hold on myself. "Ok, you help me pick up all the cans. We will start with the trash, then move on to the clothes, then the other miscellaneous stuff, then reorganize and vacuum/dust. Sound like a plan?"

"You forget that I never agreed to this."

"Who said I need your permission?"

And that was how our three day cleaning extravaganza began.

--

I returned home after we spent the whole day just cleaning up the trash in his house. We had a short lunch break, and I made certain that he threw away the trash after we were finished. I'm going to have to begin regular weekly inspections until he gets his act in order.

To tell the truth, however, I'm not completely certain why I am helping Jacob with his house, and I'm not going to force the raccoon excuse upon you once more. I guess it is partly because it gives me something to do, but I am not a neat freak. If Jacob saw my room, he would probably slap me on the back of the head for what I am putting him through right now. I will continue to ponder that thought at a later time.

As these confusing thoughts roam my head, I almost run into the door of my room… which happens to have a green post-it on it, followed by a yellow one.

The green read 'Likely story,' and the yellow read, 'And what is your amazing story for your mysterious absence today?'

Sigh. I forgot about our ongoing post-it war. I walked into my room and plopped down at my desk. I decided that the truth on this round was enough for her to handle and logically followed my story from the previous day.

_I went on a run and ran into, not literally, Jacob from the other day. We just hung out._

Good for me. I'll find a place to put it in the morning. Right now, well, nothing puts you to sleep better than a day of cleaning.

_As we were cleaning I found the tackiest Hawaiian shirt under a couch. "What… is… this?"_

"_My party shirt," Jacob responded with a grin as he moved closer to grab it from me. I, with my ninja reflexes, pulled it out of his reach._

"_Party shirt, huh?" I pondered. "Nice." I decided to try out this 'party shirt' for myself. I pulled the now wrinkly shirt around my shoulders and buttoned the top button and made a pose like I was the coolest person alive._

_Jake laughed at me. "Don't be hatin'," I responded._

_Under his breath I thought I heard Jake say, "How could I ever hate you?" and he reached up and tucked a loose hair behind my ear. I just stared at him. He seemed to realize what he was doing and jumped back and resumed cleaning._

_A gay baby was officially born._

_--_--

**How'd you like it? Sorry it took longer to get this chapter up, I was experiencing what many would lovingly refer to as writer's block. I personally have been helping my grandparents pack (they're moving), so that is where the inspiration came for this chapter. Anywho, I introduced the first awkward moment between the two of them where Jacob's instincts get the best of him, so in a few chapters I hope to actually get them together, but no promises ;). Review, review, review!**


	8. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer: It is all Stephenie Meyer's.**

**Imprinted**

**Chapter 7**

I guess you could say that Jacob and I had become pretty good friends. Well, as good of friends as you can be after hanging out for two days. Already he seemed more important to me than my school friends from junior year, last year. He was exactly my type of person.

That explains why I am here in the passenger seat of his car on the way to Wal-Mart. I finally convinced him that getting a hammock for his backyard was a really good idea. Personally, I didn't think he would cave, but he did, and here we are.

I am jumping up and down in my seat in my favorite jeans, running t-shirt, and another old, gray hoodie. I'm really excited for two reasons. For one, it is Labor day, which means no school. I love long weekends. Second, we are on our way to get the hammock I mentioned. I love hammocks and always manage to fall asleep on one at a friend's house or even a complete stranger's.

Since I did not have one, I figured that if Jacob had one, it was as good as mine. He probably wouldn't even fit on it.

"I hope you know that once we get this hammock, I'm never leaving your house," I informed him.

"I wouldn't mind that," he responded.

I gave him a 'what are you talking about' look, but he didn't seem to notice. He was just focusing all his energies on driving with that silly grin on his face.

He parked his Volkswagen Rabbit in the farthest parking space from the store.

"Are you really _that_ keen on torturing me?" I asked sarcastically.

"Yup. I'm going to enjoy every minute of it," he said looking back at me.

I grumbled as I got out of the car and took the honor of slamming the door. Jacob, however, leisurely got out of the car after checking his phone and stretched.

Then, an idea came to me. I immediately began to sprint toward the store, and I was lucky I was wearing my Crocs, otherwise I would have tripped over myself after three steps.

I got about halfway across the parking lot until I was yanked off the ground, and naturally, I yelped like a puppy who got its toy taking away.

"Not so fast there," Jacob said in my ear. I ceased my squirming and froze. This was just a little weird.

He set me on the ground and grabbed my hand and pulled me toward the store. After I recovered, I said, "Now look who's anxious."

"Sorry about that, I just couldn't resist," he answered as his gave his signature grin. I couldn't help but smile back.

"Alright. Let's get ourselves a hammock," I said as I started walking next to him, still acutely aware of his hand still holding mine.

--

It took us a total of about ten minutes to find where those darned hammocks were, for I refused to ask one of the workers due to an experience I had when I was a little kid. Long story short, I accidently asked a shopper where the stuffed animals were, thinking that he was a worker. I was scarred for life.

As soon as we entered the hammock aisle, I saw the hammock of my dreams. It was made out of white chords that were netted together and was made to be hung between two trees.

"That one," I said pointing at it.

"But you haven't even looked at the rest of the hammocks yet," Jacob argued.

"So you don't like my dream hammock?" I responded with a dark look on my face that said only, 'Agree with me, or you are going to get it.'

It took him a minute to absorb the look on my face, but once he did, he said, "Let's get that one," pointing at my 'dream hammock.'

"Good choice."

We purchased the hammock and headed back to his now clean house. As soon as Jacob pulled into the driveway, I jumped out of the car with the hammock, which I carried with me all the way back in my lap, and ran out through the house to the backyard to find a suitable place to hand the hammock.

"THIS IS PERFECT!" I yelled through the house. I was sure that Jacob was still getting out of the car.

I put the hammock between the two choice trees and ran back inside, running into Jacob. He caught me by my arms where my biceps are. He was holding me about three inches off the ground. He stared into my eyes for a second while I stared back. I was almost drowning in them when we both regained our senses.

"You need a hammer?" he asked, his voice was rough.

"Yeah," I answered. He put me down and walked past me to get one from the garage.

I couldn't help but just stand there, still with my back to the door to the backyard. It was really weird; while he was holding me, I thought he was going to kiss me, and the more weird part was that I wanted him to kiss me.

_No Fran, this is Jacob. You hardly know him._

_But he seems perfect for me. Like he is made for me._

I shook my head to clear my inner battle and turned to go outside. I walked slowly down the stairs to where I laid the hammock five minutes before. Jacob had unfolded the hammock and stretched it between the trees.

"Is this where you want it?" he asked without looking up at me. This couldn't be good. Maybe I completely misread the moment before.

"Yeah."

He picked nailed in the picks to hold it up and hung it while I stood there, looking like an idiot.

"Done… You want to test it out?" he asked, still not looking at me.

"Sure," I said and walked over and lay down in the hammock. It promptly fell down, and I landed on my butt. I could not help but laugh.

At first Jacob looked horrified, but at least he was looking at me. "Are you ok?! Oh my goodness, I can't believe I let this happen…"

"It's fine Jake," I said cutting him off and continuing to laugh. "I should probably lose a few pounds though," I joked.

"No, it was my fault. I guess I was just distracted when I hung it up. Here, get up, I'll fix it."

I slowly sat up and removed myself from the top of the hammock. "Work your magic, wolf-boy," I said to try to lighten the atmosphere.

He halted and looked up at me, for he was bent over, picking up the hammock. "Wolf-boy?"

"Uh huh. That's you're new nickname," I said.

"Please don't call me that," he said, but not seriously, and he continued his work on the hammock. My atmosphere-lightening strategy was working.

After about ten minutes of Jacob checking and double-checking the sturdiness of the hammock, he okayed it for my use.

"Finally," I said, rolling my eyes. I jumped on the hammock, literally.

"Careful, I don't want it to break on you again."

"Oh come on. You tested it twenty times. Geez. Now, push me," I replied while leaning back and closing my eyes.

I felt Jacob begin to slowly push me, and after what I guessed was about ten minutes, I felt him stop. I bet he thought I was asleep. Once the hammock had almost completely stopped, he did something that really surprised me; I almost jumped.

He kissed my forehead, really gently, but he did.

"Jacob," I said as I opened my eyes.

He was still bent over me, but I could tell he was straightening back up until I called his name. He was frozen and looking into my eyes again. I thought he would look horrified, but he seemed to be looking for my next action.

"Kiss me again," I said.

He hesitated, but leaned down again to kiss my forehead, but I moved my lips to meet his. Once our lips collided, Jacob put his hands behind my neck and was kissing me gently, but harder than he began.

His lips were so warm, almost hot. Like they were burning me, but I couldn't feel the pain of it. I only felt pleasure. My arms slowly lifted themselves and rested on his chest.

Jacob leaned back and separated our lips, but I could tell that it was reluctantly.

"Fran, there is something I didn't tell you about werewolves."

--

**Oh my goodness! I'm so sorry I haven't updated in so long! I went to soccer camp for a week and didn't get around to updating before I left. But hey, I gave you their first kiss, so it was worth the wait wasn't it? Plus this chapter is a little longer than the others. Anywho, please review!**


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